A Royal Proposal. Barbara Hannay

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ told him.

      He nodded and smiled. ‘You must be so tired. It’s been a long journey.’

      They were pulling up at the front steps of a fairy-tale castle. Charlie forgot her tiredness. She was far too excited.

      * * *

      ‘Bonsoir, Your Highness. Bonsoir, mademoiselle.’

      A dignified fellow in a top hat and a braided greatcoat opened the car door for them. Another man collected their luggage.

      Rafe ushered Charlie up a short flight of snow-spotted steps and through the huge open front doors. A woman aged around fifty and dressed in a neat navy-blue skirt and jacket greeted them with a smile.

      ‘Good evening, Chloe.’ Rafe addressed her quickly in French, as she greeted them and took their coats. ‘Mademoiselle Olivia is very tired, so we’ll retire early this evening, but we’d like some coffee and perhaps a little soup?’

      ‘Yes, I’ll have it sent up straight away, Your Highness.’

      ‘That would be very good, thank you.’

      Charlie managed with difficulty to refrain from staring about her like an awestruck Aussie tourist, but Rafe’s castle was amazingly beautiful. There were white marble floors and enormous flower arrangements, huge gold-framed mirrors, chandeliers, and a grand marble staircase carpeted in deep royal blue.

      Despite her nervousness, she planned to drink in every moment that she spent here, and one day she would tell her grandchildren about it. But she wasn’t sure she could ever get used to hearing Rafe addressed as ‘Your Highness’. Thank heavens she was only mademoiselle.

      ‘I’ll show you to your room,’ Rafe told her.

      To her surprise, they didn’t proceed up the staircase. A lift had been fitted into the castle.

      ‘My grandfather had this lift installed for my grandmother,’ Rafe told her. ‘Grandmère had a problem with her knees as she got older.’

      ‘It must make life a lot easier for everyone else, too,’ said Charlie.

      ‘Yes. Here we are on the second floor. Your room is on the right.’

      Charlie’s room was, in fact, an entire suite, with a huge bedroom, bathroom and sitting room. And although the castle seemed to be heated, there was even a fireplace, where flames burned a bright welcome, and off the bedroom a small study, complete with a desk, a telephone and an assortment of stationery ready for her use.

      The whole area was carpeted in a pretty rose pink with cream and silver accessories, and there were at least three bowls of pink roses. Charlie’s suitcase had already been placed at the foot of the bed and it looked rather shabby and out of place.

      ‘This is rather old-fashioned compared with your flat in Sydney,’ Rafe said.

      ‘But it’s gorgeous,’ protested Charlie, who couldn’t believe he would even try to make a comparison. ‘Oh, and look at the view!’ She hurried over to the high, arched window set deep in the stone wall with a sill wide enough for sitting and dreaming.

      Below, the lights of Montaigne glowed warm and bright in the snowy setting.

      ‘I can’t believe this.’ She was grinning as she turned back to Rafe. ‘It’s so incredibly picture perfect.’

      ‘There’s a remote control here beside the bed.’ Rafe picked it up and demonstrated. ‘It makes the glass opaque for when you want to sleep.’

      ‘How amazing.’ Charlie watched in awe as the glass grew dark and then, at another flick of the switch, became clear again. ‘It’s magic. Like being in a fairy tale. Aren’t you lucky to actually live here?’

      His smile was careful. ‘Even fairy tales have their dark and dangerous moments.’

      ‘Well, yes, I guess.’ Charlie wasn’t sure if he was joking or serious. ‘I suppose there are always wicked witches and wolves and evil spells.’ And in Rafe’s case, a wicked Chancellor and evil miners who wanted to wreck his country. ‘But at least fairy tales give you a happy ending.’

      ‘Unless you’re the wolf,’ suggested Rafe.

      Charlie frowned at him. ‘You’re very pessimistic all of a sudden.’

      ‘I am. You’re right. I apologise.’ But Rafe still looked sad as he stood there watching her.

      Charlie wondered if he was thinking about his father who had died so recently. Or perhaps he was thinking about Olivia, wishing his real fiancée were here in his castle, preparing for their marriage. Instead he was left with an improvised substitute who would soon leave again.

      Or were there other things worrying him? He’d mentioned the mining threat, but he probably had a great many other issues to deal with. Affairs of state.

      She was pondering this when he smiled suddenly. ‘I must say I’m not surprised that you believe in happy endings, Charlie.’

      She thought instantly of Isla. ‘It’s terribly important to think positively. Why not believe? It’s better than giving up.’

      He dismissed this with a shrug. ‘But it’s a bit like asking me if I believe in fairies. Happy endings are all very well in theory, but I find that real life is mostly about compromise.’

      Compromise?

      Charlie stared at him in dismay. She’d never liked the idea of compromise. It seemed like such a cop-out. She never wanted to give up on important hopes and dreams and to settle for second best.

      She wanted to protest, to set Rafe straight, but there was something very earnest in his expression that silenced her.

      She thought about his current situation. He’d been forced to arrange a hasty, convenient marriage to save his country, instead of waiting till he found the woman he loved. That was certainly a huge compromise for both Rafe and for Olivia.

      When Rafe looked ahead to the future, he could probably foresee many times when he would be required to set aside his own needs and desires and to put duty to his country first.

      It was a chastening thought. Charlie supposed she’d been pretty foolish to come sailing in here, all starry-eyed, and immediately suggest that living in a castle was an automatic ticket to a fairy-tale life. She was about to apologise when there was a knock at the door.

      A young man had arrived with their supper.

      ‘Thanks, Guillaume,’ Rafe said as the fellow set a tray on the low table in front of the fire. To Charlie, he said, ‘I thought we’d be more comfortable eating in here tonight.’ When Guillaume had left, he added, ‘You don’t mind if I join you?’

      ‘No, of course not.’ After all, it was what the servants would expect of an engaged couple.

      They sat on sofas facing each other. The coffee smelled wonderful, as did the chicken soup, and the setting was incredibly cosy. Charlie looked at the flickering flames, the bowls of steaming soup and the crusty bread rolls.

      The scene СКАЧАТЬ